


Belonging to You

by seths_dream



Series: Kinktober 2020 [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Biting, Clothed Sex, Collars, Hand Jobs, Kinktober 2020, Kinky, M/M, Marking, blink and you'll miss it Royal spoiler, dominant Goro, submissive Akira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:00:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27019963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seths_dream/pseuds/seths_dream
Summary: "Looking cool, Joker!” Morgana teased when Akira adjusted the neckline of his shirt, inadvertently drawing attention to what had been beneath his uniform.A black leather collar wrapped seductively around the base of Akira’s neck.Day 14:NTR | Facesitting |Collaring
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Series: Kinktober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968652
Comments: 10
Kudos: 165





	Belonging to You

**Author's Note:**

> It's 11:58 PM, it's still Day 14 dammit.

The rickety heater in Leblanc’s attic got quite hot when it kicked in, which was a relief in these winter nights. At least, it was a relief to a certain point. With all the Phantom Thieves gathered in such close quarters, the heat tipped the edge from comfortable to overwhelming, and everyone started rolling up their sleeves and discarding their jackets. Akira went a step further, stripping off his school turtleneck and leaving himself in a loose undershirt. The sight made Akechi’s mouth go dry—Akira taking his clothes off was not _entirely_ unappealing, after all—and then he noticed something _different_ about Akira.

"Looking cool, Joker!” Morgana teased when Akira adjusted the neckline of his shirt, inadvertently drawing attention to what had been beneath his uniform. 

A black leather collar wrapped seductively around the base of Akira’s neck.

“Oooh, is that a new fashion statement?” Haru enthused. 

“Wait, were you wearing this under your turtleneck at school all day?” Ann said. “I didn’t think you were the kind of guy to wear a collar! Very punk. I like it, though!”

“It’s certainly aesthetically pleasing.” Yusuke leaned towards Akira to peer at it more closely. “It’s a quality material, as well. I think it suits you quite well.” 

Akira looked a little embarrassed at all the attention, shifting in his seat.

Akechi narrowed his eyes. “Where did you get something like that, Kurusu-kun?”

Akira met his gaze easily, but his voice sounded a little off when he answered, “Just got it online. Thought it looked cool. Now, is everyone done talking about my fashion choices so we can get to Mementos?”

Akechi watched him as he turned away to the others. There was something tantalizing about the strip of leather—thin enough to hide beneath his school uniform, it gripped flush around Akira’s pale neck beautifully. The leather looked smooth, soft, expensive. Akechi’s fingers itched to touch it, to trace the line of skin just before it, and feel Akira’s throat flutter beneath his fingertips… He averted his eyes and stared at the floor, instead. He was getting carried away. 

“We definitely need to grind some of the tougher Shadows before we go back to Maruki's Palace,” Morgana meowed. 

Akira’s collar vanished when they entered the Metaverse and he was swathed in Joker's outfit, of course, and Akechi forgot all about it until they were back in Shibuya, catching their breath after the difficult battles they’d finished their trip with. The group seemed tired enough to forego the usual bullshit conversations Akechi usually had to suffer through, and the silence was like a balm after a whole evening stuck with these absolute _children._ And then they walked directly under an overhead light in the subway entrance and Akechi caught the glimmer of the metal ring that hung in front, dangling like it was begging for a leash. 

Oh, right. _That_ existed. How could he have forgotten?

“Excuse me, Akira,” Akechi said while the team waved their goodbyes and split up to their respective subway lines. “I’d like to speak with you tonight. Could I accompany you to Leblanc?”

Akira didn’t meet his eyes. Akechi took notice of that. “Uh, yeah, I guess? I mean, yes, you can come with us. I’d be happy to talk with you.”

 _Of course you would. Only_ you _would._ Akechi rolled his eyes, and boarded the train to Yongen-Jaya along with Futaba and Morgana. The latter eyed him curiously from Futaba’s lap, then flicked his tail. “If you two are going to hang out late, I’m going home with Futaba,” he said loftily.

Akechi wanted to be irritated that Morgana didn’t want to be around him, but to be fair, _he_ didn’t want Morgana around right now, either. He needed Akira to himself, needed to talk with him, _desperately_ needed to talk about the tempting circle of black around his neck whether Akira wanted to or not.

The brief walk to Leblanc was bitter cold, cold enough that the pink of Akira’s cheeks could’ve easily been from the frosty weather. Akechi had a suspicion it was from more than that. Akira seemed somehow _shy_ with trepidation. It was almost cute.

“Do, do you want some coffee?” Akira stuttered as they slipped their shoes off inside the doorway. Akira _never_ stuttered. “Oh, I suppose it’s a little late for that, isn’t it? Heh, well, how about—”

“Akira,” Akechi cut in. He didn’t have patience for this mindless chatter. “We’re going to your room. Now.”

Akira looked pained, but nodded and led the way up the stairs. They stripped off their coats and scarves, but Akira hovered near the stairway when Akechi walked through the room.

Akira’s cheeks were dusted with pink, and not definitely just from being outside in the frozen January air, not with the heater clicked back on. “What did you want to talk about?” His voice was quiet. 

“Tell me,” Akechi said, cutting to the chase. He sat on Akira’s bed, pulled Akira closer with nothing but a hard look. “Did you enjoy wearing this all day? Did you enjoy everyone seeing you with it on? Everyone _knowing?_ ” His eyes were on the collar, so he saw the unmistakable bob of Akira’s throat as he swallowed nervously. “I didn’t know you would do something like this at school. Perverted, really.”

Akira hesitated and then sat next to Akechi on his bed. Their knees touched and Akechi felt Akira tense, but Akira didn’t move away. Akira mumbled something, but Akechi had distracted himself looking at the stark black line of the collar, the silver D-ring calling for him to hook a finger in it and pull Akira closer.

So he did.

He felt Akira hitch a breath before he pressed their mouths together hungrily. Akechi forced the kiss filthy from the start. When he pulled away, Akira’s lips were wet and his eyes were dazed. “You wore this all throughout the school day, what, so you could remember who _owns_ you? So every time you turned your head, you’d feel my grip around your neck? And it’s even better that no one knew, isn’t it… until tonight, that is. Your teammates all saw, Akira. They all know.”

Akira shivered and moaned. He tried to dart in for another kiss, but Akechi kept him back with the finger still looped in the front ring of his collar. Akira’s eyes stayed fixed on Akechi’s mouth as he spoke. “They don’t… they don’t know.”

“That wasn’t an answer to my question.” Akechi waited through Akira’s uncharacteristic nervousness. He acted like this, sometimes, when he got into this space. Less assured of himself, less in charge. It made Akechi hot under the collar to make someone like Akira act like this, and he loosened his tie. 

“Yes, I liked it,” Akira finally said. He met Akechi’s eyes firmly, his cheeks even more flushed. “I liked knowing that you bought this for me. I liked… I liked knowing that the other times I’ve worn this, you were…" Akira swallowed and closed his eyes briefly. "I liked remembering the things you’ve done to me when I’ve had this on.” 

“That’s good,” Akechi said. His voice sounded hoarse and he felt his cock start to swell and harden in his pants at Akira’s admission. “I like that, too. I like how good you look with my collar around your neck. Your teammates thought so, too. What was it Yusuke had said? _Aesthetically pleasing, it suits you_ so _well._ If only he knew.”

Akira didn’t get a chance to answer before Akechi pulled him forward again, dragging him into kiss after kiss until their mouths were swollen and sloppy with spit. Akira’s kisses tended to be technically perfect, the right amount of pressure and firmness and tongue. Akechi liked it messy, dirty, _too_ hard and _too_ much teeth, liked gripping at Akira’s hair and forcing his head to the angle he wanted it. And Akira bent to his touch. Every. Time. 

“Do you know what it did to me, seeing this around your neck? Knowing that you put this on yourself this morning, seeing indisputable proof that you’d been fantasizing about me?” Akechi murmured as he kissed his way down Akira’s neck, deceptively soft and sweet kisses that made Akira sigh and tilt his neck back. 

Finally, Akechi made it to the edge of the collar. He licked along it, tasting the smooth texture and warm salt of Akira’s skin on one side and the taste of earthy leather on the other, almost as soft as Akira’s neck. The collar was warm from being worn all day, warm from the blood thrumming under Akira’s skin. It made Akechi feel wild, and he couldn’t stop himself from sucking a deep bruising mark just above the collar.

“There,” he said, before sinking his teeth into another section of Akira’s delicate neck. Akira keened above him. He slid his mouth off with a wet popping noise and examined his work. “Now you’ll have something else to hide. Something else to remind you whose you are.” He bit down again, unsatisfied by the hue of his previous marks. Akira’s pathetic whimper made his cock twitch harder, and he groped a hand down to find what he’d thought was true—Akira was hard, too.

Akechi worried the flesh between his teeth before releasing it, and gave Akira a second to suck in a shaky breath before he consumed his lips again, curling their tongues together and stroking along the roof of Akira’s mouth hungrily. “Tell me whose you are,” Akechi said when he pulled back to breathe. “Tell me.”

“I’m yours,” Akira said between broken gasps. “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m _yours,_ Goro, please.”

“Do you even know what you’re begging for?” Akechi put more pressure on Akira’s clothed cock and bit his own lip at the noise Akira made at that. 

“You. Just you. Always you.” Akira’s breathy voice pulled Akechi down and under, filling him with heat and _need._ Akechi couldn’t stop himself from shoving Akira fully onto the bed and pinning him there. 

“You know your place,” Akechi said roughly, hooking his finger into the collar’s ring again and pulling so Akira had no choice but to arch his head back. His dark curls splayed across the sheets, delicate strands still sticking to the sweat on his face. “You know it’s beneath me.”

“I do, I do,” Akira sobbed when Akechi undid Akira’s pants and tugged at his cock with no preamble, fast and rough. 

“That’s right.” Akechi almost didn’t recognize the throaty growl in his voice. “ _Mine._ ”

Within moments, Akira’s cock was spurting in his hand and Akira was crying out, bucking upwards and rubbing his thigh against Akechi’s crotch. Akechi fumbled at his own pants, managed to get them halfway down his thighs so he could rub his cock with his come-slick hand, slick with _Akira's_ come, gripping at Akira’s bony hip with the other.

“Gonna come on you,” he groaned. “You want that, don’t you? Marked by my bites, my collar, my come. You’re _mine._ ”

Akira was nodding, whimpering, his eyes glued to the sight of Akechi’s hand flying over his cock. And then he used the hand on Akira’s hip to wrench his shirt upwards just in time for his come to pulse out and splatter onto Akira’s smooth skin, thick, translucent pearly fluid on his pale stomach, the shadows of abs flexing beneath.

Akechi groaned as he rode out his orgasm. It stretched out, hot and tingling and consuming him until all he knew was _Akira, Akira, Akira._ He thought maybe he was saying the words out loud, because Akira was saying back, “Goro, yes, I’m here, Goro.”

He sighed as he came down and rubbed his come into Akira’s stomach with his soiled hand, mixing their fluids together and licking his dry lips.

“Good?” He said, flicking his eyes up to meet Akira’s half-lidded ones.

“So good.” Akira’s voice was barely a whisper.

Akechi's eyes trailed up his body, back to his collar. "Good."


End file.
